


back it up

by clorinda



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, PWP, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clorinda/pseuds/clorinda
Summary: Damen and Laurent spar.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ego by Beyoncé.

Damen was enjoying the strain of physical exercise when he realised he wasn’t alone. Turning, he saw Laurent was there leaning against the wall of the training room gazing at Damen. Laurent was dressed casually, only a thin shirt and pants, a compromise with the warm Akielon summer. He still managed to convey the appearance of a very fastidious man as he lounged in an elegant sprawl against the wall.

“Have you been watching me long?” said Damen, lowering his sword. “You could have said something.”

“You've gotten stronger,” said Laurent.

“You think so?”

“Yes,” said Laurent. “You’re even better than before.”

Damen felt a happy flood of warmth wash over him. This had been apparent to him for weeks from countless training sessions with his guard. He had never been one to underestimate his own abilities. But hearing the praise coming from Laurent was an entirely different experience. He was smiling helplessly and couldn’t bring himself to want to stop.

“Even so,” said Damen. “There’s no need for you to be kept waiting.”

“I don’t mind,” said Laurent. There was a bright, knowing quality to the look he gave Damen from beneath his lashes. “I enjoy watching you.”

Damen didn’t think he could feel any more cheerful. Wanting to share his good mood, he moved forward to trap Laurent against the wall. Laurent let Damen crowd him without any objection.

Damen pressed his face into Laurent’s neck. “Will you spar with me?”

Laurent let out a low laugh against his cheek. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” said Damen. “You’re an amazing swordsman too.”

The look that came into Laurent’s eyes at that made Damen lean in. Laurent pushed at him gently before the kiss could happen, keeping his hands on Damen’s chest. “What are the rules?”

“Generally, the first to disarm his opponent wins,” said Damen.

“I thought the first man on his back to surrender was conventional.”

“If that’s how you would prefer it,” said Damen in an easy manner. His mind was still a little preoccupied with the nearness of Laurent’s body. “It makes no difference to me.”

This time Damen was pushed back with enough force to put some distance between them. Laurent shot Damen a challenging look. “Are you so confident?”

“Yes,” said Damen.

Laurent’s eyes flickered, for the briefest moment, to his mouth. Damen startled into a pleased laugh.

Laurent’s cheeks went faintly pink. 

“Very well,” said Laurent. He pushed off the wall and swept his gaze lazily over Damen’s body, letting it linger, this time deliberately provoking. Damen was entirely content to let him look. He noted there was an intellectual aspect to his inspection as if he was already calculating and playing out his best chances at winning in his mind. 

Laurent went to take a sword from where they were hung on the wall. He strolled back with it dangling carelessly at his side with the point towards the ground. 

Damen saw when the loose grip Laurent had on his sword shifted slightly.

“I’ve been practising as well,” said Laurent, “and it is what I would prefer.”

Without warning, Laurent attacked. 

Damen swung his sword up and metal clashed loudly against metal as he blocked the blow. And then they were in a fast flurry of exchanges.

Laurent fought to win. But there was a difficult to place aspect to the way Laurent met him behind a sword that was different to every other match Damen had fought in his life. It was some time before Damen recognised it for what it was: Laurent was completely unafraid as Damen charged at him, his manner almost playful despite the hard seriousness of their blows, as if Damen was no threat to him at all. 

Intrigued, Damen let out more of his strength in the next blow. Laurent’s confidence was unflinching; he blocked it and twisted. With visible strain, Laurent threw him off at such an angle that Damen actually staggered two steps back. 

Damen grinned. “That was well done.”

“I can do better,” said Laurent, and charged again.

It had to be a mistake, not striking towards any vulnerable point. Then Damen was startled by the slip of fabric against skin as the bunched clasp at the top of his garment dropped and fell to his hips, catching on the belt. He looked back up just in time to raise his arms protectively as the oil basin used for wrestling matches was thrown at him. When Damen lowered his arms, Laurent had backed away a good distance. 

Damen looked at Laurent as he wiped with one hand at the wetness on his bare chest.

“What?” Laurent's expression was blandly innocent, except for a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. And then, as if he couldn't help it: “It suits you.”

Damen engaged him again so that Laurent had no time to retreat. It brought Laurent satisfyingly right up against him. “If you had different plans for us, you could have said.” 

“I told you,” said Laurent. “This is how I want it.”

Laurent drew up his sword hard so that the hold of their swords was forcibly broken. Damen had to rear backwards to block the blow. Laurent was fast, and the next attack carried all his strength as he swung again so that Damen was pushed back further, stumbling hard.

Instinct kicked in. Damen brought enough force into the next exchange that Laurent’s sword was simply knocked hard out of his hand. The last option left to him, Laurent dove to get it back.

Damen grabbed him before he could and rolled over him on the ground, swinging his leg over his hips to hold him down. “ _Yield_.”

Laurent was breathing hard. As he gazed up at Damen a deliberate looseness invaded his body. Damen felt himself respond to it, his hands on Laurent’s shoulders slackening their grip. 

“Laurent - ” said Damen. His voice was changing too, dipping low with intent. 

Laurent’s eyes suddenly moved behind his shoulder, a furrow between them. “Not now, Pallas.”

Damen startled badly, sitting up and looking behind him. 

And then Damen was toppled onto his back, taken by surprise as Laurent pushed up suddenly and took him down with him. Laurent was laughing, face all bright and warm, holding Damen down by his shoulders and leaning in close.

“Why don’t _you_ yield?” said Laurent.

“That was a dishonourable trick,” Damen said in protest. His hands went naturally to Laurent’s hips from habit; he didn’t move to get him off right away. “In a real match, it would never succeed.”

“You didn’t have to look,” said Laurent. “Aren’t we just sparring?”

Damen launched himself up and Laurent had no chance to get away. But he didn’t give in, wrestling in earnest with Damen so that Damen had to exert himself to get Laurent under him. It was clear to Damen that Laurent had improved but Laurent, for all his other tricks, was apparently not going to take advantage of any that might really hurt Damen. Damen grabbed his arms, and the tussle ended a lot faster than it could have. 

This time Damen made sure to use his whole body, holding Laurent’s wrists tightly above his head in his hands to make sure there was no way he could break free. 

“You can’t get away,” said Damen, on top of him and pressing down. “You can’t. I win. Say it.”

Laurent was breathless underneath him, cheeks flushed with exertion. His pulse was fast as a rabbit’s in his wrist. 

“You win,” said Laurent. 

He twisted his wrist in Damen’s grip, more of a pointed suggestion than a real attempt to break free. Damen let go and then Laurent reached up to tangle a hand in his hair and pull his head down. 

“Well done,” said Laurent in a murmur, and kissed him.

Damen made a helpless noise in the back of his throat and the hard press of his body melted against Laurent’s as all his instincts changed course. His blood was pumping with adrenaline and desire, a hand flat on the ground to keep some of his weight off Laurent. He still pressed down with more of himself than was necessary. Laurent, for his own part, only tightened his grip in Damen’s hair and opened his thighs so that Damen was cradled between them, as if he was planning on keeping Damen exactly where he was. 

Until, suddenly, Laurent pushed at him hard. Damen backed off instantly, getting up and gathering up his sword in confusion. 

And then stared at Laurent standing before him. 

Laurent raised his eyebrows coolly. “I’m finished here.” 

Sword clattering to the ground, Damen followed him blindly out of the door. He knew both of them emerging flushed from the training room was being taken in by the other soldiers, before they glanced away, used to it. Damen couldn’t bring himself to care, needing to keep up and not lose sight of Laurent. 

When they turned down a hall and out of view of anybody else, Laurent broke out into a run, and his laughter was a bright, ringing echo down the palace hallway. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see Damen close behind him and that only made him laugh harder, blue eyes shining with mischief. Damen was chasing him through the palace and Laurent was racing up a small flight of stairs, Damen taking them two at a time so that when Laurent burst into the room at the end of the hall and swung around to face him, Damen was already on him, pressing him back against the wall and pushing up his thin shirt. 

“Laurent,” said Damen. Laurent’s arm was winding around his neck and Laurent’s mouth was sliding open under his, kissing Damen back deeply with his hand tangling in Damen’s hair. Damen grasped Laurent’s waist. He could feel the laughing curve of Laurent’s smile as they kissed.

“Wait,” said Damen, breathlessly, even though his hands were still all over Laurent. “Wait. Somebody might come in.”

“They won’t,” said Laurent, and when Damen still hesitated, eyes sliding to the door shut behind them, Laurent used his hand to tip his face back towards him. This close, Laurent’s sharp angles were gentled and lovely, chin tipped up to make it as easy as possible for Damen to meet his blue eyes. 

“Damen, I promise,” said Laurent. “Nobody will come in. You can trust me.”

Damen’s hands were moving faster then, pulling off Laurent’s shirt and undoing the fastenings on his pants, ready to tug them down. Then he let out a groan when he realised Laurent’s boots would impede his efforts. He dropped down to his knees to take them in his hands, pulling them off.

When Damen looked up, Laurent was staring down at him, lips parted. There was a deep flush rising in his cheeks. 

Damen felt understanding spread slowly over him. Laurent’s stomach contracted in a shuddering breath when Damen placed a hand at his navel, sliding it down to dip two fingers in just under the band of Laurent’s pants.

“Do you want me to use my mouth?” said Damen. 

“I,” said Laurent. Nodded slowly twice.

Damen felt a burst of pleasure. “All right.”

Damen tugged Laurent’s pants down and took him in hand. Damen opened his mouth at the tip in a kiss. Laurent made a hitched sound as Damen’s mouth lingered at the head of his cock, sucking softly, enjoying the way Laurent obviously liked it. And then Damien took him down properly. Laurent's breath went even more gratifyingly unsteady. It felt impossibly good to focus on the hot weight of Laurent against his tongue, mouth moving down steadily along his length. The hesitant grip Laurent had in Damen’s hair tightened and Damen shivered.

“Damen,” said Laurent faintly. His hands came down hard to hold onto Damen’s shoulder.

Damen pulled off and looked up. “What is it?”

“I need to,” Laurent said, and then just slid down the wall as if his legs couldn't support him anymore. “Sit down.”

Laurent glanced at Damen with a flushed expression as if expecting comment. Damen barely registered it past his blood pounding in his veins.

“It's fine,” said Damen. His voice came out thick with desire. “I can still -”

Damen ducked his head back down. Laurent made a noise in his throat when Damen took him back in his mouth. Laurent’s hand was trembling as he pushed Damen’s hair out of his eyes. Damen sucked his cock in firm pulls of his mouth until Laurent’s hips were shifting helplessly up.

“Damen,” said Laurent. It was a soft, broken sound. 

Damen swallowed it all down. He sat up and wiped at his mouth, feeling the pleased lift of it with the back of his hand. 

Laurent had his head tipped back against the wall as he caught his breath. Damen moved back to sit against the wall close to him. “Did you like that?” 

Laurent made a dazed sound of assent and Damen’s whole body reacted to it. 

“Laurent,” said Damen, shifting in closer and nuzzling into his neck. His arousal was heavy and aching between his legs, but it was wonderful having Laurent like this, knowing he was responsible for it. He could still taste him in his mouth. “You liked it?”

Laurent let out a breathless laugh, turning his face towards Damen. “ _Yes_ , Damen.” 

“It’s just,” said Damen, rather more breathless. “I wanted it to be - ”

“I know what you want,” said Laurent. 

There was a moment where, with visible effort, Laurent seemed to gather himself. “Come here,” he said.

Moving Damen back against the wall by his shoulders, Laurent kissed him once on the lips. Just as easily, Laurent settled into his lap. He rubbed a hand on the oil splattered against Damen’s stomach. Damen’s blood throbbed to have Laurent’s hand so near to where he wanted it.

Laurent smiled at him when their eyes caught and Damen’s heart skipped a beat. 

Then his hand went down between Damen’s legs to palm him through his clothes. He stroked him there through the fabric, firmly, just once with the heel of his hand. Damen groaned. Laurent pushed up Damen’s clothes to take his cock out.

For a few moments, Damen just savoured the sensation of Laurent's oiled hand on him. It was all Damen could concentrate on. Laurent shifted in a little closer, thigh sliding up higher on top of Damen’s. 

When Laurent finally spoke, it was in a low, deliberate voice right into Damen’s ear. 

“That was good,” said Laurent. A hand carding through his curls, warmly approving, made Damen flush hotly all over. “That felt - you’re very good at that, Damen.”

His breathing grew more unsteady. “Am I?”

“Yes,” said Laurent. His cheeks were hot but there was a preciseness to his words that made the jolt of desire that hit Damen stronger, sweeping heat up his spine. Intimately aware of Damen’s preferences, Laurent’s hand was a firm massaging warmth around his cock. “It was exactly what I wanted.”

“Laurent,” said Damen. 

Laurent pulled back to meet his eyes. Damen saw the small lift of Laurent’s mouth in response to his tone. 

“I should have known,” said Laurent, “you’d be good at it.”

Damen couldn’t form a reply, just made a rough questioning sound in the back of his throat. 

“You’re capable and strong.” Laurent’s other hand came down to smooth up Damen’s thigh. “And you are - very well made.”

“Laurent,” said Damen, flushing deeply.

“You’re beautiful,” said Laurent, in a rush, and it was so unexpected and sweet that Damen’s whole body flooded with heat. “I’ve never,” he said, “seen anybody use their body the way you do. It makes perfect sense that you would use your hands,” said Laurent, “your mouth, in proportion to the rest of your abilities. I should -”

“What?” said Damen, urgently. He was so close. He couldn’t help his hand tangling with Laurent's on his cock, pushing up. “Laurent, what?”

“I should have,” said Laurent. He was watching Damen’s face. The words were less precise now, as if pulled out from him by feeling instead of deliberation. Laurent’s hand drew up his cock with confident familiarity. “I should have known, you’re good at everything.”

It was too much for Damen, Laurent’s weight in his lap, Laurent’s hands on him, and Laurent’s voice, every word as warm as a touch, overwhelming him with pleasure. He came like that all over their tangled fists.

It was quiet in the aftermath except for his unsteady breath. Reaching for his discarded shirt, Laurent used it wipe them both off. Damen cupped Laurent’s neck and kissed him softly on the lips in thanks.

Then Laurent started laughing. His shoulders shook with it.

“What?” said Damen. It came out in rather blurred Akielon. He switched to Veretian. “What?”

“Your ego,” said Laurent, “must be large enough to host a small country.”

Laurent sounded deeply pleased, as if he had won at a particularly favoured game. Damen, for his own part, found it blissfully impossible to mind anything when he was still feeling the pleasant effects of Laurent’s words in his blood. And there was another delighted tingle in Damen to be so perfectly known; to be given what he wanted. 

Laurent stood up and held out a hand. Damen looked at it for a moment, confused, before he realised he should take it. Laurent’s hold was deceptively strong when he helped pull him up. 

Damen noticed for the first time that the room Laurent had taken them into was a guest bedroom. Laurent led Damen to the bed and climbed into it himself, tugging Damen down. Damen stumbled and fell on top of him in a heap.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean any of it?” Damen heard his own undisguised dubiousness.

“No,” said Laurent. 

Damen pulled back to see his expression. Laurent’s face was flushed but it wasn’t from shyness or discomfort: He just looked happy, his smile helpless as he met Damen’s eyes. 

Realising that Laurent was probably going to be suffocated underneath him, he shifted them so that Laurent was on top.

“Since I have the room, feel free to go on,” said Damen. He gazed up at Laurent as his hands came down to rest on Laurent’s hips. “You didn’t say anything about my hair, or my eyes. You know how vain I am about them.”

The curve of Laurent’s smile deepened as he looked down at him. Damen felt a flutter in him when the look in Laurent’s eyes let him him know that, in a moment, Laurent was going to lean in and kiss him. 

“I like them,” said Laurent. He was leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping low, hands spread out on the plane of Damen’s chest. “Congratulations on your victory.”

“You have me on my back,” said Damen. He wasn’t going to be able to move for some time; he didn’t want to, not in the slightest. “I think you did win.” 

“Not the match,” said Laurent, and kissed him.


End file.
